


Brat

by helena_s_renn, Helenas_bitch, orphan_account



Series: Teh Winchesters [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Domestic, Frottage, M/M, Shower Sex, Spanking, Teenage Winchesters, Underage Sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helenas_bitch/pseuds/Helenas_bitch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John is away on a hunt, Sammy is eager to try out a few new things with Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam liked school. He enjoyed learning, and usually, he'd be attentive during class and absorb the knowledge that was offered. Today, however, he couldn't sit still – not after what his classmates had discussed during lunch break.

Although Sam's education was frequently interrupted by moving to new places for hunts, he was often placed in a higher grade than his age suggested. It was the reward for being smart, but it came with the price that his body was less advanced than his mind. It meant that what the other boys in his class had – or at least pretended to have – experienced sexually, Sam knew mostly from Dean's tales. 

True, he was having his own experiences now that he'd discovered his older brother to be an eager teacher, but Sam still found himself at a disadvantage compared to his peers. The best way to catch up was to ask Dean for advice, and that was what Sam planned to do the minute he got home from school. 

It was also the reason why he was now squirming on his chair in the rickety kitchen of their current dump. Dean had cooked, and Sam didn't want to appear ungrateful when his brother was taking care of him so nicely that he prepared one of Sam's favorite meals. Still, the looks Dean was giving him indicated that it was only a matter of time until he'd ask what all this was about – and that would be the end of the meal, so Sam would hurry to empty his plate.

* * *

Now that he had dropped out of school, Dean was officially responsible for most of the household chores: cooking, laundry, whatever cleaning got done. Not like he hadn't been doing most of this unofficially, what with their dad rarely around. Sometimes he felt more housewife than hunter. Then there was research, which he found entirely too much like school, if with more interesting subjects. Add that to upkeep of the Impala, supply runs, the daily physical and weapons training John insisted on, and keeping the salt lines and other protective spells up to par, and Dean didn't really have all that much time to laze about. It was also on him to ride herd on Sam and make sure he got where he needed to go. 

Sam. The kid was only 13 but when tested to determine his grade level, the small town's school administration had placed him as a sophomore. This meant all of his classmates were a couple of years older, and the majority of the kids at the high school, closer to Dean's age. While he was proud of Sam's smarts, Dean was sure that socially, it wasn't necessarily the best thing for his little brother. Sam was tall for his age and could kick ass if he needed to defend himself. His braininess, as well as not being like your average high schooler – into chicks and cars and sports and getting wasted – was going to make him conspicuous, which was something Winchesters didn't do. Couldn't afford to do. Sex, that was another story, but Sam could hardly go bragging to the other kids about all the action he got with his older brother.

But, Sam was far too young to drop out of school, and it would be a travesty to waste a mind like that. Far be it from Dean to home-school him – he hadn't even earned his GED yet. Dad could have – he had high school and military and some college. But no, he had more _important_ things to do. This was an old argument and Dean refused to let it darken his mood. Today Sam had come home from school with what seemed to be a load on his mind, quiet, staying in their room. If some dumb jock or stoner had messed with Sam, Dean would get it out of him, and then he would set things to rights. Wouldn't be the first time. From past experience, Dean knew he'd have to use a round-about, and more importantly, calm approach or Sam would clam up for days. 

Turning off the gas under the frying pan, Dean wielded the spatula to scoop up a burger patty he'd melted cheese over, and plopped it onto a bun. There were half a dozen more still in the pan. "Single or double, Sammy?"

* * *

"Double, please." Sam's nostrils flared at the delicious smell of cooked meat. He suddenly noticed how hungry he was. Jumping up from his chair, he started laying the table. Keeping his hands busy would help disguise the squirming. 

"Do you want a beer?" he asked Dean after a look in the fridge. Sam didn't face his brother as he held his breath. Dean would only drink alcohol if he was sure their father wouldn't return home. Sam needed to know if the coast was clear.

* * *

"Yeah, Sam." It was code, asking if he wanted a beer. Dean elaborated indirectly, "He went to check out some crop circles in Jasper County, Iowa. That's ten hours from here, and he was already back half an hour later to get some book and the black light. Said he wouldn't be back till tomorrow or the next day." John occasionally forgot things; it was better to make sure by waiting an hour to two. 

Dean fixed a burger for himself, also a double, and brought their plates to the table. He'd also heated some canned peas and he set the kettle on the table, on a folded towel as a pot-holder. "Bring the ketchup. Milk for you. Might be some leftovers, just bring whatever looks decent." 

One thing they'd had drilled into them young was don't waste food. There were no guarantees as to where the next meal was coming from. Sam was actually better about helping out when John wasn't there. In a sense, it was almost like they were playing house. Plunking himself into a chair, Dean waited while Sam seated himself. 

* * *

Sam's heart skipped a beat at the news that their Dad wouldn't return that night. Now that he knew, his mouth turned dry. He took the ketchup bottle – and almost dropped it because his hands were shaking with excitement. Dean gave him another sharp look, and Sam decided that he needed a distraction.

"Milk? I'm not a baby! Why can't I have a beer, too?" Sam pouted. _And I'll show you tonight that I'm grown up enough._

* * *

With his back to him, Sam perked right up when Dean relayed the news they'd be on their own for a day or two – Dean could tell by his posture. The wiry muscles under his worn tee-shirt went into full alert mode. They hadn't had that sort of time together much lately, not for several weeks. It had been one town after another, their dad either taking Dean along or not being gone overnight. Of course, Sam contradicted him about the milk; he wouldn't be Sam otherwise. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're still a growing boy. You need the calcium. For your bones." Okay, that was pretty obvious but Dean leered at Sam anyway. "Tell you what. If you're a good boy and clean your plate and get your homework done, I'll let you have half a beer later." He grabbed the ketchup bottle from Sam's hand and shook it. "Sit down and eat. I didn't go through the trouble to cook to have you just stare at it."

* * *

Half a beer? That was a first. Sam smiled at his victory. So far, Dean had never allowed Sam to drink. He was sure that Dean somehow knew that Sam had had a couple of beers one day, stolen from a gas station – although he'd left the money behind, so technically, it wasn't stealing. He'd liked the taste but not the sickness that came with it, throwing up his guts and waking with a headache the next day. Dean and Dad had been away overnight, and Dean had never asked, but Sam was sure that his brother knew.

So, a victory. A beer, even half a beer, was another step toward manhood. On the other hand, maybe it wasn't the best idea for tonight: Sam needed a clear head for what he'd planned.

"I'm not a boy," he groused as he sat down and picked up the burger. "And I have no homework." Sam blushed. "Uh, that is, I don't have to do it tonight. My first class is cancelled and if I go in early, I can finish it on time, I promise."

* * *

"Not a boy? So what are you saying – you're a girl? Ha, I knew it!" Dean loved to give Sam crap, just to get a reaction out of him. Probably not the best plan, since he needed to get his brother to cough up details about possibly being bullied. So Dean reached over and ruffled Sam's longish hair. "Just kidding, Sam."

There was more undercurrent of Sam not telling him... something. He took a bite of burger and chewed. Hm, would've been better with bacon. Maybe next time. "Class is cancelled? That's unheard of," he said presently. He'd given up on ever trying to keep up with Sam's class schedule about three moves into the school year. "I'd rather sleep in than get up to go to school early. You sure you're feeling alright?" 

Sam hadn't said anything about feeling okay or not, but Dean had to start somewhere. 

* * *

For a few minutes, Sam was too busy for answering to Dean's ribbing because he was wolfing down his burger. "Geez, this is good," he said finally and broke into a wicked grin. "But since you're the one doing the cooking, doesn't make that _you_ the girl?" He stuck out a pink tongue at his brother, his face flushing immediately with the implication.

"Yep, cancelled. Mrs Sullivan broke her leg and they couldn't find a replacement so quickly. Don't worry about getting up early, though. I'll let you get your old man sleep and take the bus. Or get up early and do it here, and then you can take me in later."

* * *

Considering how Dean had been bitching inside his own head about turning into a _hausfrau_ , he supposed Sam might have a point. How annoying! And typical. Sam stuck out his tongue at him and suddenly Dean was squirming on the wooden chair. That tongue. Sam had mastered kissing readily enough, and he wasn't shy about using his tongue elsewhere on Dean's body. "Well, I'm the man of the house when Dad's not around, and you'd be wise not to forget it," he blustered. "Especially if you still want your half a beer, sonny- _boy_ ," he cackled. 

* * *

Drawing his breath in sharply, Sam focused on his burger again. Oh yes, Dean was a man. Unfortunately, his brother could only be _Sam's_ man when Dad wasn't around. Sam was tempted to invite Dean to show him that he was a man, but that would give his plans for the night away.

"That means that I can skip doing my homework tonight, right?" Sam asked with his mouth still half full. 

* * *

What was that kid up to? He was being all cagey. Since Dean had already revealed they'd be on their own for the night and they both knew what that meant, Sam's "I'm up to no good" face appearing was sort of out of place. Dean could think of two possible reasons. Either Sam intended to sneak more beers than a half, totally inadvisable on a school night, never mind Dean's own history with Jack Daniels from Sam's age, or else... Hm, what if he'd decided their brotherly explorations weren't for him, and didn't know how to say so? If Sam was straight – normal – he might have met a pretty girl at school that caught his imagination and realized that what he and Dean got up to wasn't exactly typical. Just one more thing Dean would have to consider, in drawing out whatever was bothering him. 

The possibility of that left him with a hollow feeling in his chest. His primary motivation was helping Sam, but as it turned out, Dean received as much as he gave during their sessions. Physical pleasure and an ego boost, yes, but he also got more of a feeling of connection than he ever did from his random lays and short-lived 'relationships'. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered, other than that he just didn't have it in him to go for weeks without getting off and he got tired of his own hand. Waking up sticky wasn't pleasant either. Such was what had started them on this road. His lips curved up a little, remembering.

"Yeah, I guess, as long as you make sure you get to school in time to finish it there," Dean put an end to the homework question. "So, Sam... How was school today? Teacher broke her leg, huh? What else?"

* * *

"Sweet," Sam exclaimed when Dean said he was okay with the homework issue. "Don't worry, I'll finish in time." Dean wouldn't have to worry. If there was one thing Sam took care of, it was his education, and his brother knew it.

"So, what else?" Sam finished his burger and shrugged as if he couldn't care less. "Nothing much, I suppose. Wanna know what we did in class? Lemme see, there was math..." Sam smirked at Dean's eyeroll. "Oh, and during lunch I found out that Chad Wilson is dating Theresa Parker. _The_ Theresa Parker. And then he said that he's trying to take her _and_ her sister to the movies Saturday night..."

Sam prattled on happily until Dean raised his beer bottle and took a long swig. His moment had come.

"Oh, and," he said casually, "I wanna lick you tonight. You know, until you cum."

* * *

Ah, high school antics. Dean listened, amused. _The_ Theresa Parker... and her sister? They sounded like a couple of girls he should look up sometime. Of course, they'd probably be long gone before the urge to find female company got out of hand. Not with the way Sam was eyeing him like a hungry wolf.

_Lick you... Until you cum._

Holy shit! Dean inhaled his beer and choked, and proceeded to cough up a lung. Damn, that stung! He could feel his face turning red. 'Real smooth, Dean, yah fuckin' idiot,' he cursed himself. However, it was good cover; he had to reach under the table and adjust his helplessly swelling dick. Sam had never spoken like that, other than in bed. In a way, it was just wrong, a kid his age verbalizing that kind of dirty talk. Like Lolita, or something. Yeah, Dean had read that. But Sam was no girl. And he wasn't a tease. No, he was eager and willing, his big hands and wide mouth felt like nothing but pure, raw Sam. That certain turn-on that signalled 'Sammy' had hooked Dean through the belly and he couldn't stop his reaction. 

Able to speak finally, he raised an eyebrow at Sam. "Is that so? Well, right back at you. Later. We still have to clean up the kitchen, at least. ...What set you off, anyway? The idea of two girls at once?"

* * *

Sam congratulated himself on his timing, then kept giggling until Dean stopped spluttering and coughing. When Dean suggested, however, that they had to clean the kitchen first, he frowned. "You really have turned into a hausfrau," Sam pouted.

* * *

"Oh, shut up," Dean punched Sam on the shoulder, not too hard. "Someone has to do all these chores. I'd be happy to share. Dad thinks it's boot camp, but I can usually get away with 'reasonably clean'.

* * *

"How about we soak the pan and plates now and I'll clean up in the morning?" Sam never volunteered for kitchen duty, but his body was sending urgent demands to not linger but get undressed and... to... _it..._

* * *

"Wow, Sam, jones-ing much?" Dean smirked. Of course, Sam had figured out how to masturbate – he'd been witness to that. It never seemed like he needed to as much as Dean did. Or perhaps this was the one way he was successful at hiding something. Either way, his younger brother needed it now; his slanty eyes were almost pleading as he wheedled about leaving the kitchen mess till later. And Dean couldn't refuse.

"Fine," he said eventually, as he shovelled the last of his food into his mouth. "You gave me a boner anyway, thanks to your proposition."

* * *

Sam couldn't keep the triumphant grin off his face. "I'll go wash while you eat up," he announced and slid off the chair.

Suddenly nervous, he stopped his sprint to the bathroom and stood before his brother. "Um, if you want me to, that is..."

* * *

Dean stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Rather that you did, man. You're probably all gamey from gym class."

Sam insinuated he'd be washing more than just his hands. Like, his junk and his butt, among other things. Dean squirmed again. If he was announcing what he wanted, in this manner, well, Dean wouldn't put it past him. Even in just the few times that they'd been able to experiment together, Sam had already made known what he liked. Dean looked at the lanky frame jittering in the doorway. "Unless _you_ want me to join you."

* * *

"Fuck, yeah," Sam blurted out before he could stop himself. "I mean... Yeah, I'd like that." He blushed, cast his eyes down, and mumbled, "Sorry for swearing." Dad would have tanned his hide for this, but Dean would let him off with an apology.

His spirit returned when he had an idea. Sam grinned again and cocked his head. "You wanna watch me wash?"

* * *

"...um, yeah," Dean replied, pushing back his chair and standing. "I'd like that kind of show... a lot." He let his eyes rake up his brother's body, at the same time giving his erection an unsubtle rub. He would, too, if he could keep his hands off long enough to let Sam do the job. 

* * *

Eyes boggling at the bulge behind Dean's zipper, Sam nodded. He unconsciously licked his lips while he wondered if he could go through with what he'd planned. Dean was _big_ and Sam had no experience. The boys in his class had said that it felt best when their girl 'deep-throated' it. The meaning of this was clear, but Sam wasn't sure how Dean's dick – or any other dick – could fit into a human mouth. It didn't matter. If his brain couldn't figure it out, he'd try it anyway. Besides, Dean had probably been blown before, and he'd tell Sam how to do it.

First of all, Sam had to wash, though. He decided he might as well have a quick shower and turned the spray on, then brushed his teeth while he waited for the water to heat up. Peeling out of his clothes, he flashed another grin at Dean – who was watching him with a stunned expression – and pulled his shirt over his head. His nipples had already tightened into hard peaks, and when he pushed his pants down, he thought with a lot of satisfaction that his dick had grown since he'd started playing with it more.

Sam cocked his head at his staring brother. "Like what you see?"

* * *

Dean followed Sam into the bathroom after throwing the dirty dishes into the sink with some dish soap. Their bathroom in this house wasn't the best, but there was hot water here. Sam had started with brushing his teeth. Dean wondered, if he was going to get his mouth dirty with Dean's dick anyway, why he thought he had to brush his teeth, but oh well. Maybe the mint would feel tingly. Another pleasant surge pulsed between Dean's legs. In the meantime, Sam had turned on the shower and started stripping down. By the position of his body and cant of his head, he was very aware of Dean's eyes on him. 

"Sam, you know I can always look at you... at your body," Dean told him. "And touch it and kiss it and lick it..." He paused to take his outer flannel shirt off. By then Sam was naked, standing just outside the shower stall in the billowing steam. Dean reached for his belt, then thought better of it. "Undress me, Sam." 

* * *

Sam was about to step into the shower when Dean's request took him by surprise. He looked at his brother, open-mouthed for a second, before nodding slowly. "Yeah, I want that," he said, wondering why his voice had turned so hoarse.

Cocking his head, Sam knelt before his brother and smirked. He pretended to reach for Dean's belt buckle and let his hands roam over the bulge in his brother's pants instead. His own dick was already drooling pleasure fluids onto the bathroom floor, and he briefly debated whether he should draw it out, but the heat in Dean's eyes made him decide against it. He opened the belt and unzipped his brother until the thick erection sprang free.

There it was, right in front of his face. Sam felt irresistibly drawn to it – was Dean playing a mind trick on him, urging him closer? He flicked his tongue over his lips, not missing his brother's gasp, and then leaned in, gingerly licking over the frenulum and the slit with the tip of his tongue, waiting for Dean's reaction.

* * *

Dean had half-expected Sam to tell him to fuck off. Giving him a direct order in any other context nearly always resulted in Sam contradicting him. Instead, without a word or dirty look, Sam knelt down, cupping Dean's swollen cock under his fly. At the touch of Sam's palm through heavy layers of denim, the first drop of slick oozed from his slit. Dean already wanted to thrust his hips forward, but forced himself to stay still while Sam was undoing his belt and jeans to draw him out.

It was natural that Sam would have ideas of his own, as well as learning things from, for example, that porn magazine he'd been looking at back in winter, and of course Dean had bragged about his sexual conquests to him from the first time he'd kissed a girl. Back then, it had been fun to make him screw up his face in mock-disgust and pretend to gag. This was still the first time that Sam initiated something quite so graphic.

That sneaky little brat! He was sexy as hell like that, bare skin gleaming, erection pointing up and swaying above the dark pubes and tight balls. From what he could see, looking down, Sam's knees were spread slightly, his tight little ass tensed, and forever-profuse juices leaking into a little puddle on the floor by Dean's right foot. Watching him closely, Sam's tipped-up eyes took in his every hitch of breath.

Dean felt like he had to up the ante just to keep up with his brother. That was why he'd given Sam the command he had, and why, when Sam stuck out his tongue and licked all over the head of Dean's cock, paying special attention to the thread on the under-side, Dean wove his fingers into Sam's hair. Just on the verge of pulling his wet mouth down, he stopped himself. It was sexier to see what Sam would do on his own. The potential possibilities... his dick was dripping now, the shiny liquid smeared on Sam's tongue and lips.

* * *

If Sam had expected a reaction, he was a little disappointed: Dean hardly showed a sign. Sam registered a brief twitch of hips that indicated that his brother was fighting an impulse to thrust, but that was all. He thought he'd probably see more if he could watch Dean's face, but if there was a way of licking his dick and looking up at his face at the same time, Sam hadn't discovered it yet.

Dean tasted a little bitter and salty. It wasn't the same taste as when Sam had licked his brother clean after cumming. Smiling to himself, Sam decided that he liked this new – fresh? – taste even better. He moved away from Dean's groin, hoping for a complaint, but got none. Instead, he was rewarded with the sight of a shiny thread of the clear fluid hanging from his lips and connecting him to Dean's slit.

Dean wasn't even breathing hard. Well, that was about to change, Sam told himself. Somehow, he promised himself, he'd make his brother scream before the night was over. Leaning forward again, Sam opened his mouth, slipped his lips over the wet crown, and sucked hard.

* * *

There was a pause, and the licking continued. Dean held his breath, willing himself to be still, savoring every swipe of Sam's warm tongue against his distended flesh. A few more licks fell against the rim of his crown and made his knees go weak. Sam pulled away a few inches, a string of spit swinging between his lower lip and the tip of Dean's dick. He didn't linger long, though. In the next breath, Sam slurped Dean's erection into his mouth.

"Ah! Ah!" Dean gasped. Not only did that soft, heated wetness cover his cock-head, but Sam tightened his lips and _sucked_. Enthusiastically. It wasn't the first time Dean had had someone go down on him, but it hadn't been like this. Sam slid his lips around the corona, and flicked his tongue across the head. "Fucking A, Sam..." He couldn't help it – Dean thrust his hips forward. He _needed_ that heat, that suction, the saliva-slick cavern of his brother's mouth. Sam struggled to take even half of him, and spit ran down Dean's balls as he drooled. "God, Sam... relax your jaw... where did you... MMmmph!" Pressure surrounded him again, tighter, and Dean lost his ability to do anything but moan. 

* * *

Now, _that_ was better! Sam grinned – with his eyes, as his lips were still wrapped tightly around Dean – and sucked again. A shudder ran through his body at hearing Dean's sounds, gasps and moans, that he'd never again forget and that made his dick surge.

Sam wasn't sure what exactly Dean meant when he asked him to 'relax his jaw', but he assumed that it had to do with opening his mouth. As soon as he opened up, Dean pushed in deeper with another needy grunt. Sam did his best to suck, which wasn't easy with his brother now filling him as much as Sam thought he could take him, although that was still only about half-way.

He'd ask later how he could get more of Dean inside him, but for now Sam just continued to suck. He brought one hand up and cupped and rolled Dean's heavy balls, then wrapped the other around the lower part of the shaft, where he couldn't reach with his tongue. 

When he started to stroke, he had an idea: keeping up the suction, he let Dean slide almost out of his mouth, then in again. The – squeal? – he got in reply encouraged him to repeat the motion. This time, when his mouth was only holding the tip, he swirled his tongue over the slit. He was rewarded with a very distinct trembling of his brother's legs and sounds he'd never heard, nor expected to ever hear, from him.

Sam was in heaven. The only thing that would heighten his bliss would have been a third hand to stroke himself, but he'd take care of that later.

* * *

How the hell was he supposed to _not_ come in five seconds? Part of it was what Sam was doing, sucking, sliding up and down on half his dick, tongue trailing along behind his lips and swirling the tip. He had Dean's balls in his hand, not just resting there but applying even more stimulation, playing with the twin glands, which tightened almost painfully. When Sam's tongue glided over, almost into, his slit, Dean couldn't repress the high-pitched whine as nerve endings he didn't even know he had flashed urgent pleasure straight to his aching balls.

"Fuck, S-Sam," Dean stuttered. "D-do that again... your tongue..." His legs were trembling so much, he was immediately grateful for the wall just behind him, which he fell against with a thud. Sam followed and licked at his slit again, again. He squeezed Dean's balls just this side of painfully, leading to another embarrassing squeak and a gush of pre-cum. Dean was getting close already – he would either need to stop Sam or he would lose control. The urge to fuck, to thrust and rut and give in till he blew his load, overwhelmed him.

Sam couldn't take him all the way down; he'd never given head before, didn't know how to tame his gag reflex. Just the fact that he was doing this, was trying so earnestly if still giving Dean that cat-who-got-the-cream look, and his absolute willingness brought the issue boiling to the surface. "Sammy... no... stop or I'll cum...!" Dean tried to pull back but he was already against the wall. Shit, shit... oh god! A yowl of pure release ripped through him, echoing off the bathroom tiles. Blinking in the light, Dean let go, felt his hips buck forward and back. His balls sucked up almost into his belly and he spurted his pent-up juices in thick ropes.

* * *

Sam's lower body was throbbing and humming as he tried to follow Dean's requests as well as he could. He was relieved that Dean didn't push in any further, although he could feel the tremor in his brother's body when he was clearly fighting his rutting instincts. 

For now, Dean asked to have his tip played with, and Sam was happy to oblige. He dipped his tongue into the tiny slit, which made Dean whine and beg for more. Sam felt a rush of power flow through him that he could do this to his brother. He lapped at the slit again, ran his tongue into it, then sucked hard as he slid his mouth down the pulsing shaft.

Dean was close, that was sure. Suddenly his erection seemed to swell in Sam's mouth, and Dean grunted that Sam either had to stop or Dean would... Sam's eyes widened as his brother let out a yowl. Before he could make up his mind, Dean's hips thrust forward, and Sam opened his throat as much as he could while keeping his lips closed so he could maintain the suction.

For a minute, Sam could do nothing more than swallow the offering and try not to choke. Miraculously, he managed, all the while listening to Dean's incredible sounds. He continued to softly rub his brother's balls and stroke the base of his dick, but Sam knew that the second Dean became oversensitive and told him to stop, Sam would have his hands on himself and blow within less than three strokes.

* * *

Once it had begun, there was no stopping his orgasm. Hearing himself gasp repeatedly, Dean poured out everything he had, spurt after spurt, till he was totally empty. Sam kept sucking, the wet hot pressure and pulling seeming to drag more from Dean's aching balls. There, too, Sam kept playing with him, gently stroking his sac. It felt so good to be brought off this way, the center of the universe. Dean let himself float on the wave of euphoria for a few seconds, till the touch of Sam's lips and tongue became too much. His nerves wrenched from loving it to oversensitive in a split second, and he pulled Sam's head back. "Holy shit, Sammy. You got every drop." It was true. Sam had spilled nothing.

The look in those hazel-green eyes was heated, probably seconds from climax. How or why Sam had kept his hands off his own dick was beyond Dean, but he knew an opportunity when he saw it. Never mind his legs were shaking so badly he nearly fell over, he grabbed Sam by the arm. "Get up! Into the shower before we lose the hot water."

The shower curtain presented no obstacle. Dean pulled it open and both of them under the stream of water, then shut again. In the steam, he pulled his little brother against him and kissed his swollen mouth, tasting himself on Sam's tongue. That had never grossed him out, and he liked to think of his cum mixing with Sam's spit and sliding down his throat. Better yet, his brother so needy and kissing him back, their tongues slick and curling together while their slurps and smacks echoed in the confined space.

He spared a moment to glide his hands down Sam's smooth, wiry body, which was tense and jittery. The boy badly needed to get off. His cock was so stiff it looked like the skin was stretched and ready to burst, a long string of drool hanging from the tip. Dean gripped it just under the head, so that he'd be able to move the foreskin with his stroking. "Alright, Sammy... let me take care of you now." Dean took his mouth again, delving deep, and slid his fist up the pulsing shaft.

* * *

Sam could barely stand when Dean pulled him to his feet. It was only his brother's strong body that kept him upright, holding him close, as Dean plundered his mouth. Sam immediately parted his lips to let the invading tongue in, moaning deeply when Dean licked his own cum from Sam's mouth.

His moans turned desperate when Dean's hand found Sam's erection. Had he ever been so hard before? Sucking Dean off had surpassed his keenest expectations. Maybe the scent of sweat on the heavy balls should have put him off, but Sam found it turned him on to no end. And then the taste of Dean! Swaying on already unsteady legs, Sam thought he'd swoon when Dean tightened his fist around Sam's dick and began to stroke him firmly.

"I... Unnnnhh... Gods, yes, there! THERE! MMMnnnnuuughh..." 

His ecstatic cries were muffled by Dean's mouth when the older brother resumed the kiss. Noise roared in Sam's ears as all his blood shot downward between his legs and made his cock thicken. Dean picked up on it and stroked him not only faster but also harder.

The tell-tale tingling at the base of his spine told Sam that it was a matter of a very few seconds. "There! Almost! Almost..." he gasped into Dean's mouth. Then his brother did something to his foreskin, and Sam yelled as thick ropes of cum splattered all over Dean's body. He was still cumming when he felt his knees give and he leaned against Dean, shaking through his ongoing and incredibly long climax. 

"Deannnuughhh...!"

* * *

It only took a few strokes with a tight grip, Dean's hand positioned to be able to move the foreskin back from the head and forward again, before Sam drew in a shaky breath and cried out. His hard shaft pulsed a few times rapidly; strings of cum shot out all over Dean's front, as Sam shook from the force and his knees gave out. Dean held his little brother tight, pleased that Sam sought his support in return, so helpless and out of it during his climax. It was enough to get him half-hard again.

Milking the last drops, and more and more, Dean was amazed by the quantity of spunk. "Where do you keep all that?" he chuckled. Maybe Sam hadn't jerked off lately, but that often resulted in a wet dream. So far, his balls were still a little smaller than Dean's as well as tighter within their sac, but that didn't affect the amount, it seemed. "No matter, I love how much you can shoot, it's so damned hot." Kissing Sam again was a different experience – he wasn't ravenous with the need to blow his load right now, but slack-mouthed, little satisfied moans escaping between each. At last Dean let go of Sam's dick when he heard a whine and Sam went up on his toes. 

"Sam, I think you need washing now. Me, too, considering the mess you just made all over me." Grinning, Dean picked up a bar of soap from the shelf next to their standard-issue 99-cent shampoo and conditioner. "You're a dirty little boy, you know that?" he laughed. Sam wasn't little any more, and Dean did mean dirty in the sexual sense. It sounded 'wrong', and it also sent a flood of blood to his cock. 

"Hm... What part of you first?" Dean considered making it an innocuous part, like an arm, but where was the fun in that? He remembered from being very small, the extra care Sam's foreskin had required, but he didn't want to hurt anything with the soap, which might be too harsh. "Here... Turn around." Dean helped Sam face the other way without slipping, and guided his hands up to the tile wall. 

First, he washed the long back, noticing how Sam's shoulders were beginning to broaden out. The flat muscles chased his hands, it seemed. As Dean neared the small of his back, Sam arched, like he were sticking his butt out. "Mmm... Someone wants..." He didn't say what, because they both knew. Dean directed water at Sam's upper body to rinse him, and then he used the soap again, taking the time to work up some lather between his hands. Unable to help a moan of his own, Dean slid his slick hands over Sam's cheeks, on the pretense of washing. Small and firm, they fit perfectly into his palms; he just kept rubbing the taut skin, digging his fingers into the muscle, his thumbs resting along the crease. Dean became aware of their breathing being synced, no noise around them but the patter of the shower and their panting.

Sam, loving this as he did, was pushing back against his hands, leaning forward to spread himself. Making more lather, Dean pressed his thumbs down into Sam's crack. So hot, that inner bit! There, hidden, was the tiny pucker that could make his brother go crazy. "Sammy," he breathed. With the pad of one thumb, then the other, circling them back again and again, he caressed the ring muscle. 

* * *

"Huh?" Sam's brain, sluggish from his orgasm, couldn't figure out what Dean was talking about. Something about the amount of spunk – oh, right. Then Dean was kissing him again, gently this time. The hand on his softening dick suddenly became too much and when Dean stopped stroking him, Sam leaned against his brother with a sigh.

Dean kept talking, about washing Sam now, and Sam found himself being turned around and braced against the shower wall. Continuing to sigh, Sam enjoyed Dean's hands on his back. Then, the hands moved down, and a flash of desire sparked up his spine. Sam moaned and pushed back, hoping to rub his butt against Dean's cock. Instead, Dean cupped Sam's cheeks with his hands, rubbing and squeezing them. 

Sam breathed harder as his dick began to fill out again. Dean reacted and pressed his thumbs down the crack. Moaning again, Sam spread his legs as wide as he could and pressed back, inviting his brother to touch him _there._ When Dean began to gently massage the rim with the pads of his thumbs, Sam cried out in need.

"There, Dean, please!" he gasped. Sam knew how amazing his finger felt in there. At the thought of Dean's thick thumbs spreading him open and pushing deep inside him, a surge of pre-cum trickled from his slit. "Nnnughhh, yes, yes!"

Pressing back, Sam hoped Dean would get the message, and soon. Then, another idea hit him. Gay men took it up the ass, Tim had said. Sam didn't know whether he was gay, but the mental image of Dean's cock filling him made his legs buckle.

"Dean, would you fuck me?"

* * *

Sam spread his feet wide apart, his body responding to every little motion of Dean's hands and thumbs. His narrow hips undulated a little, as if he were trying to rub himself against something, although there was nothing nearby. At a glance, Dean saw that Sam's dick was rising again already, half-mast and twitching with the in-rush of blood. He smiled – it probably wasn't to be but he hoped they'd always be good for three or four times in a night, when they got an opportunity.

Knowing how much Sam liked having his hole played with, Dean continued to tease the tiny opening. He was just about to wiggle in the tip of his little finger when Sam shocked the hell out of him – he asked Dean to... not do, take, or even have sex with him but _fuck him!_ Most of the girls Dean had been with – who were years older than his baby brother – wouldn't ask for it in those terms.

And, although he didn't stop what he was doing, Dean used one hand to reach between Sam's legs from behind to grasp his balls and gently explore the exact shape and contours of them. He needed a minute. There was no way, _no way_ that he would do that to Sam, but how to explain without telling him certain things? 

Dean widely spread it about that he'd lost his virginity at 14. That had been his first time with a female, but in truth he'd been a year younger. They were broke again, apparently that long cold winter didn't do much for a hunter's income. Dean had already given blow jobs on three separate occasions and had learned how to do it without puking, but this time the 'customer' wanted more, and he offered enough money to see them through a couple weeks. The next job was almost 2000 miles away, and no one ever said '67 Impalas were good on gas. 

The guy tried to be nice, talk to him like a normal person, he even had lube which was the first time Dean had heard of such a thing, but in the end it was a matter of being pushed onto his hands and knees, the guy's dick, which felt like it had to be the size and consistency of a baseball bat, forcing its way inside him though he cried and begged, bled, too, the pain of humiliation as huge as the literal pain in his ass. The guy had tried his fingers first, told him to relax but Dean was too scared and his body fought it. He could still remember being invaded that first time, how he had screamed and a hand clamped over his mouth, the heavy thrusting, the mouth and teeth on his neck and back, the ripping burn of his hole like acid, the smell of his own shit and so disgusting, warm slimy goo that leaked out of his ass for hours. When it was over, the dude left; John came in, eyes averted, threw a blanket over Dean's mostly naked and marked body and carried him out.

Jesus, and Sam wanted... that? He had no idea what he was asking for. Dean knew for damned sure he would never behave that way towards a sexual partner, he made it as good for them as he knew how, and especially if it was their first time was so careful not to hurt them. If, and only if, he were to fuck Sam – Christ, he shouldn't even consider it! – it would be so different, night and day. How could he, though? Sam was much too young, still innocent despite their sex-play, and it wouldn't be right to break him in so young. Hell, Dean had been a horny little bastard and he'd been too young, never mind the circumstances. He didn't want Sam to be jaded by sex, sex with his own brother yet. There were many years and many experiences he should have, and if Dean tied him too closely, he never would. And if Dean hurt him, he'd never forgive himself.

"You've no idea what that means, Sam," he grated out. "It's not, I mean, it can't be the same as having a finger inside you. My dick's at least five times that size. It would... not feel good. And... You're too young. And I'm your brother. It's not something we should do – ever. But I will make you feel good, I'll help you get off, 'cuz I know you need it."

Before Sam could fuss about it, Dean grabbed the bottle of conditioner and flipped open the lid. He spurted a bunch onto Sam's ass and gathered most of it on his hole. "Dunno how you like this so much, but since you do..." Rather than his little finger, Dean used his index finger, trying to go slow to give Sam time to adjust. The guardian ring was so tight that Dean winced but Sam pushed back and before he knew it, he'd slid the digit in to the knuckle. It wasn't sex, or at least that's what Dean told himself, yet still the right thing to do seemed to be to thrust, with his finger. Half bent over Sam's back, Dean rolled his brother's tender balls and finger-fucked his tight little hole. Inside, there was a lumpy mass that made Sam jump when he touched it. "Feel nice, Sammy?"

* * *

Sam almost snorted when Dean told him no. It was what Dean always did: whenever Sam wanted something that wasn't 'normal' for a kid his age, his brother refused him. Then, after enough whining, Sam usually got what he wanted. So he had no serious doubt that this was just another such occasion. 

Pushing his lips forward into a pout that he knew Dean wouldn't be able to resist long, he considered his answers and ticked off Dean's reasons why they shouldn't do this. Age – Sam was advanced way past his age; besides, he'd be older eventually. Brothers – they were already doing things brothers weren't supposed to do. Size – he'd read that with enough preparation it wasn't going to be a problem.

He was about to open his mouth when his brain registered Dean's next words. 

_"But I will make you feel good, I'll help you get off, 'cuz I know you need it."_

Before Sam could recover from the sudden lack of blood in his brain, he felt a trickle down his crack, and then what he'd hoped would be his brother's dick, but at this stage, even Dean's finger was highly welcome. Dean hesitated, but Sam pushed back, and the finger slid in deeper than he'd expected.

"Hhnnngghhh..."

When Sam had played with his hole, he'd only slid the tip of his finger in. With Dean, he was getting a whole finger, and it was thicker than Sam's. It felt fantastic, and so did Dean's hand doing something incredibly hot with his balls. Sam's hips began to move on their own accord as he pushed back, matching Dean's rhythm as he slid his finger in and out. Then Dean touched something deep inside him and Sam screeched out as a blinding flash of pleasure seared along his nerves. 

Dean noticed it immediately and repeated the motion until Sam was twitching and moaning under his brother's hands. The tingling and burning sensation in his balls made it hard to breathe. He was so close, so close...

"Gods, Dean! Dean!"

_"Feel nice, Sammy?"_

"Dean! Gonna... gonna..." Sam threw his head back and screamed as the first pulse of his release tore through him.

* * *

Sammy wanted it so bad, it was obvious he loved having a slick finger shoved up his butt. Giving him that, Dean could sense the phases of Sam's rapid rise to another nut-busting release. That little ass thrust back against his hand, Sam's thighs trembling. Ah, a little redirection and stimulation – okay, a lot of stimulation to his most susceptible areas – had Sam within a hair's breadth of coming again already, and Dean wasn't even touching his dick. Sam's voice had changed prior to his sexual awakening, but as he babbled and moaned, about to blow his wad, it strained higher as his already-tight balls sucked up, primed like a hair-trigger, against his body. Gulping in a breath, Sam shrieked and let go, hips rolling uncontrolled. Dean nearly lost it when he saw the white strings that meant Sam was spurting untouched onto the tiles in front of him. 

There was no reason to keep quiet, no one to hear. The sounds Sam was making...! Like it hurt, only he was obviously getting off; there was that scream of pleasure, followed by totally pornographic groans. Dean was getting desperate, too. He let go of Sam's sac to hold him up when he again sagged in surcease, and his erection wound up trapped against Sam's hip. The rippling muscle around his other finger reminded him that he'd not been _inside_ anyone in a while. God, he needed friction! The thought of having that incredible grip surrounding his cock, to be buried in... No! He should not be tempted! What kind of monster did that make him? 

Setting the desire to sate himself inside his younger brother aside, Dean paid careful attention to the spasming, fluttering ring, first speeding his in-out finger thrusts till Sam's body went from convulsing and heaving jizz to gelatin-loose and lax, then slowing his deep, fast probing to nearly motionless, and at last pulling his finger free. Cumming took so much out of Sam, he knew, like the boy was capable of giving of himself – his essence or life force – in a way Dean never could no matter how intense his orgasms. It awed him, drew him to Sam in some inexplicable way. 

Getting around Sam so they were facing, Dean held him up and ground subtly against his belly. His slick made it perfect for sliding. He was so hard now! His dick throbbed heavy, aching dully, filled out to full extension. Shades darker than his own, Sam's smooth skin, his neck and shoulder, were before Dean's mouth and he kissed there, then sucked the muscle beyond the clavicle. Knowing he didn't dare mark Sam, he shook with the effort to keep the suction light. 

When Sam seemed to come to a little, Dean rutted against him more thoroughly. "Will you wash me now, Sam?" he asked in a low voice. 

* * *

Gasping and moaning through the aftershocks, Sam let himself be held for a minute. About to whine a protest when Dean turned him around, Sam shut up when he felt his brother's dick poking against his belly. Dean leaned down to kiss his neck and clavicle, then pressed against him more firmly and asked Sam to wash him now.

"No, I won't." Sam rasped. "Wanna feel you cum against me first." He took Dean's hands and raised them above their heads, holding them there, and pressed his brother against the shower wall. Dean looked at him with hungry eyes that fluttered when Sam began grinding himself against the hardness trapped between them.

"Cum for me, Dean!"

* * *

'Well, that little brat!' was Dean's first thought when Sam refused to wash him. He hadn't exactly finished what he'd started – all he'd gotten to was Sam's back and his butt – so his first thought was that he should clean and rinse the rest and then wash Sam's hair as well. Then maybe the kid would feel like reciprocating. Or, the mood he was in tonight, not.

Dean was about to cast about for the bar of soap when Sam caught him by surprise yet again. Determination in his features, not much different than the obstinate expression he often wore in protest, he laced his fingers through Dean's, pulled his arms up over his head, and shoved him against the wall. Yes! Since it was Sam, the lithe body familiar, Dean allowed it, especially when his brother pressed against him with all his strength, trapping Dean's hard-on against the flat surface below his navel where his love line would be one day.

Although Sam had just cum and wasn't hard, Dean could well imagine how someday soon they would do this when he was, would grind together. Wet from the shower and his once-again dripping juices, Dean thrust into the slippery planes between them. "Oh, yeah," he moaned. "Sammy... 'S so good!" Indirect stimulation, as in, not a hand or mouth wrapped around him, made the sensual climb much slower, almost torturous, and he loved every second of it. He let go of one of Sam's hands to grab at his sharp hipbone for more leverage, and then Dean focused on simply grinding, thrusting up between them, putting his mouth all over whatever skin he could reach in kisses and tiny, harmless nips. Every so often he'd lean away a little and glance down, fascinated by the sight of the red, shiny head of his cock which appeared and disappeared and reappeared, sandwiched between his rippled abs and Sam's.

"I need to cum!" he burst out some minutes later. Like it were molten metal, Dean could feel the next release constricting all the blood vessels of his lower body, needing out! By now, his dick was almost too sensitive to go on and his balls throbbed and ached, all so close to the edge he couldn't quite reach. He rubbed against Sam harder, faster, his hips shaking and little cries of frustration falling from his lips. "Almost... Just... Fuck... Yes..." Like he was trying to convince himself, Dean let himself moan words in time to his surges of heat.

"Oh god pleeeeeease!" Clenching his gluteal muscles tight, Dean yelped – the switch was definitely connected to his genitals but it went off somewhere in his lower back, tingling and then exploding-pulsing-creaming.

"There it is! Cumming for you, Sam... Mmmnnngggggaaah!" The first shot of seed skimmed up their pressed-together torsos, then more and more. "Sammy... Sammy..." Streaks of shiny warm white were everywhere, one drip hanging from Sam's chin, another clinging to his left nipple. Unable to shut up, Dean jerked his hips and repeated his brother's name till he was spent and empty again.

* * *

Sam couldn't keep the wide grin off his face, laughing with delight that he'd made Dean lose it again so spectacularly. Every time they brought each other off, he thought that there couldn't be a hotter sight than his brother in the throes of his climax. The way Dean's mouth opened, the wide eyes as he ground himself against Sam, desperate to get off...

Sam's balls were so empty that they were aching dully, but his dick twitched. The night wasn't over yet. With Dad gone, Sam didn't care if he was tired in school the following day as long as he could spend every minute doing these incredible things with Dean. 

However, they needed to recover first. Sam didn't doubt that they'd be up for at least another round in no time. And until then...

He smiled sweetly. "I could wash you now," Sam offered.

* * *

Still panting, Dean heard his brother's suggestion with a measure of delight. Sam's hands all over him, and then he could finish his job afterwards. "Do it," he rasped. 

* * *

Having expected this reply, Sam reached for a washcloth and rubbed the soap on it, working up a lather. Not sure how to go about this, he started with Dean's chest. As they hadn't been on a hunt and their current place had decent bathroom facilities, Sam didn't think he needed to scrub his brother's skin, so he just wiped Dean's chest, then his belly and flanks. Leaving the groin for later, he picked up the soap again and took care of Dean's legs and feet, then told him to turn so that Sam could wash his back and finally his arms. 

Then he set the washcloth aside and took the soap in his hands, which he ran down his brother's butt crack. Instructing Dean to face him again, Sam grinned as he cradled Dean's balls and dick in his soapy hands and rubbed them carefully. When he'd finished, he looked at Dean while the warm water rinsed the soap off his skin.

"Close your eyes so I can wash your hair," Sam suggested, "and then we're done."

* * *

Dean hadn't had anyone wash him since he'd been a small child. It was so unlike their usual lives, where there was no coddling or tenderness, other than whatever he and Sam had managed with each other out of their dad's sight. He almost felt guilty for enjoying the touch of his brother's hands so much as he efficiently washed Dean's body front and back. After a second's hesitation, since it was just Sam, Dean allowed him to use the soap on his crack, not even flinching when it touched his hole for a slippery split second. Lastly, Sam applied suds to his soft prick and balls, rubbing carefully. Dean realized he hadn't washed Sam _there_ yet and he mirrored the process, other than he peeled the loose foreskin back and used his thumb to carefully wash the exposed head of Sammy's penis. His brother was already trained to clean himself there, and, conscious of his difference to most other boys, Sam was religious about it. The slit was a bit red, but then Dean's was as well from getting off twice and having had it licked.

"My hair's fine, it's way shorter than yours. Water will probably turn cold any minute, though." Dean reached over to turn it off, stepped out onto the floor, and tossed a towel in Sam's direction. "Dry off good. I don't want any wet sheets," he winked.

* * *

"Are you sure about the no-wet-sheets thing?" Sam snorted. "Are we talking about wet as in water or other stuff here? Just so you know, I might not be tired enough to sleep straight away." He grinned. "And don't you tell me to clear up the kitchen to work off my excessive energy."

Sam knew he sounded bossy, but if he knew his brother right, Dean wouldn't object to making the best of their father's absence. To emphasize his point, Sam licked his lips slowly. 

* * *

"You can use your excess energy in producing more 'stuff'," Dean dipped his eyes suggestively, "or entertaining us, in general. What Dad doesn't know won't hurt him." That was for damned sure. "I meant water... on the sheets. It's a given that there'll be messier 'stuff' later." It was fun to give Sam some more big-brotherly crap, especially given how he'd been winding Dean up all night. "I'll even let you wash the bedding later. Or you can just lay in it."

Wrapping the towel around his waist and tucking in the end, Dean sauntered off to their room. Their small rented place had two bedrooms. It came semi-furnished, part of which was a double bed he and Sam had to share. Sometimes it could be pure torture, lying there awake, listening to Sam's sleep-even breaths with his body heat radiating into whatever part of Dean was closest, being so hard either from just hormones or wanting to 'play' and having to either ignore it or use his hand. Since he'd caught him doing it, Dean knew Sam jerked off on his own, which was only natural, but he'd yet to be jostled awake with such activities. More than once, Sam's hands had alit upon him in the dark when Dean was in the middle of it. He'd whisper, "Hurry up," if it was taking too long, for the only reason for such stealth was that Dad was home. It never failed to serve as an aural aphrodisiac that had Dean cumming within moments.

Thinking about it had given Dean a semi, evidenced by the bulge under the dingy faded-blue towel. He rubbed his hand over it haphazardly, suppressing a groan when it filled out in response. After earlier, he was entirely oversensitive, and Dean knew that between his uncut organ and being much newer to sexual activities, it would be more-so for Sam. 

"Tell me, Sam, since you're being so bossy today... Where did you come up with all this? Blowing me. Shoving me against the wall. Etcetera. That's rather... dominant of you." The context was new to Dean's vocabulary, after his most recent hook-up. A freaky chick at least five years older than he had tied him up, put him in a cock ring, and ridden him till she was satisfied before letting him out of those evil bindings. He'd jizzed all over them the second she touched his unbound balls. It was embarrassing, but he decided he liked it, as an occasional thing. "Might need to spank your naughty ass. Unless you want to tell me..." 

It had never been Dean's job to discipline Sam, only to protect him and teach him. The suggestion was sure to have his brother sputtering in annoyance. Dean smirked widely, and dropped his towel to the floor. 

* * *

Sam opened his mouth to tell Dean that he'd got his ideas from his class mates bragging about what chicks liked, but when his brother threatened to spank him, his jaw dropped. 

"You... you wouldn't!" He tried to sound outraged, but wasn't sure if Dean had been joking. "Unless..." Sam's eyes fell on Dean's groin where he could clearly see that his brother was growing erect again. "Unless, of course, that'd turn you on."

Sam looked Dean in the eyes. "Tell me," he said deliberately, "do you get off on the idea of spanking me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sam looked Dean in the eyes. "Tell me," he said deliberately, "do you get off on the idea of spanking me?"

* * *

Amused, Dean watched Sam drop his jaw at the proposal of getting spanked. But it only took the kid a minute to return to his earlier snarky-teasing demeanor and inquire if the idea turned Dean on. Pretty much any method of getting his hands on Sam turned Dean on, even if he hadn't thought about spanking until that second. It had been many years since either of them had been spanked – their Dad punished them with extra chores or running P.E. drills. 

Deliberately, Dean looked straight down his torso at his dick, which was thickening and rising to an upward jut, then back at Sam, raising an eyebrow. "What do you think, brat? Besides, you deserve it for refusing to help finish the dishes. And for, for," trying not to choke on his words, which sounded so strange coming from his own mouth, Dean spat out, "being a filthy precocious little boy who likes to suck cock. And keep secrets," he added quickly. He certainly had no complaints about the sucking cock part. "I might just have to spank it out of you." 

Flipping his eyebrows once, Dean sat on the bed, arranging himself with his knees close together and his erection much in evidence. He'd just see if Sam was going to put his money where his mouth was, which he highly doubted. Sam was prickly about his sense of autonomy and dignity. It would probably hurt his pride to have his butt smacked till it was red and sore... Unless it was he who was turned on by the idea in the first place. "Okay, then. Come bend over my lap and get your spanking..." He let his eyes rake Sam's lanky form, "unless you're chicken." 

* * *

Blushing furiously, Sam wished he'd have kept his mouth shut. With Dean calling him a chicken, there was no way he could get out of this with his dignity intact. Curse his brother for turning the tables on him!

Sam squirmed, which seemed to amuse Dean even more. The last time he'd had a spanking from their Dad, he hadn't been in school yet! And Dad had never spanked his bare ass! Although Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to look dangerous, he was aware that he'd make at best a pathetic impression. No, the only way to get through this was to 'man up'.

"Okay then, since you obviously want it so much," he announced haughtily as he, too, dropped his towel. Trying to hide his smirk because he was _only_ half hard, Sam padded over to the bed. Arranging himself over his brother's lap took some less than graceful moves, but once he lay there with his naked butt sticking out, Dean's body heat made his breathing hitch. He wasn't going to fool Dean; Sam's always copiously leaking dick would ensure that, but he wasn't going to cry uncle.

"Do it."

* * *

So, calling Sam chicken worked. Dean would remember that. The air practically vibrated around him from tension as Sam threw off his towel and marched over to the bed, his face screwed up in what Dean was sure was mock indignity, half-hard dick bouncing, and threw himself face down over Dean's thighs. 

"Oh, think you're ready, do you?" Instead of smacking that upturned butt, Dean petted Sam instead, along his back and over his round cheeks. He shifted back and pulled Sam close, so that his own hard-on was pressed against Sam's side. Moving one leg, Dean lifted Sam up enough to get his dick trapped between his thighs, then closed his legs tightly around it. That way, he'd be able to feel every little twitch and trickle. And it worked – there was a burgeoning of the shaft as he cupped Sam's buttcheek in his palm. Huh.

Without a warning, Dean pulled his arm back and slapped the taut skin hard. Sam's entire body jerked once. A satisfying red handprint graced his ass, and Dean grinned... And smacked a matching one onto Sam's other cheek. His palm was stinging but he didn't care. "You love it," Dean murmured. Sam's dick jumped, and lo and behold, warm wetness ran down the inside of Dean's thigh. "You horny little bugger," he slapped again, lower down. "Just want your big brother to tan that ass." 

* * *

Spread over Dean's lap, Sam still doubted that his brother would go through with it. Surely, Dean wouldn't spank him like a naughty schoolboy! Then, Dean wiggled around and somehow got Sam's dick trapped between his thighs. Sam suppressed a moan when Dean fondled his back and ass, then cupped the cheeks in his hands. So this was all about sex again. Sam's dick hardened at the thought.

Just as he'd convinced himself that his brother wasn't going to deliver a spanking, Dean's hand came down hard on his butt. Sam yelped – from the surprise, not the sudden sting, he told himself then swore silently that this was, (a) the first and last sound Dean was going to hear from him, and that, (b) once this was over, he'd find a slow and painful way to kill his brother. The next hit came with a resounding smack and pushed Sam down, which Dean immediately interpreted as a thrust of Sam's erection between Dean's thighs. 

_"You love it,"_ Dean commented, and Sam ground his teeth to keep his mouth shut. A gush of pre-cum surged from his dick, and Sam told himself that it was only from embarrassment, but at the same time he held his breath waiting for the next slap. Shit, Dean's hands... Whatever they did to him went straight to his groin. Sam didn't know whether he should beg for Dean to stop or if he wanted it to continue. His dick was aching for release and his head was spinning. What was Dean waiting for? 

* * *

Sam yelped once; after that, he held his silence. It became a competition, like a messed-up sibling rivalry, for Dean to get him to make another outcry. Should he really go on? Even he could admit this was weird. In the end, his dick surged in answer to Sam's, and Dean hauled back for another spank. It seemed to come forever after the last. It got easier after that, and he brought his open hand down a few more times. Sam didn't make another peep. If anything, he stuck his ass up for more, and humped into the tight grip of Dean's upper thighs around his erection. Soon there was a wet spot on the covers, where Sam's juices gathered, and his back took on a sheen of new sweat.

Dean didn't think his swings were enough to hurt Sam, exactly, other than perhaps his 'manly' pride. Nor could he have explained why his brother submitting himself to his mercy was such a turn-on. Certainly because he could see his upturned backside and the reddened handprints, the way that tightly-coiled body jolted with each smack. The heat created by the friction both on Sam's butt and between his thighs made Dean want to fuck and just wallow in it. 

Soon it became clear to Dean that Sam was going to out-stubborn him and not yell unless he hit him a lot harder. This wasn't real discipline and he wasn't angry, and Dean wasn't going there. He'd have to try something else on his twerp of a little brother. Abruptly he stopped, instead bringing his hand down in the lightest of touches, one fingertip only. Sam didn't cry out, but a surprised muffled blurt seemed to stick in his throat, for which Dean felt immense satisfaction. Slowly, he traced the outline of a fading handprint on one of Sam's cheeks, then the other.

"Naughty brat," he murmured. "Should see your ass; it's bright pink, all marked up from my hand right now." His other hand had a firm grip on Sam's arm. "Not gonna yell about being spanked, huh?" Twisting around, Dean used raw strength to propel Sam onto his back on the mattress, and then he simply crawled on top. "Then scream for me this way." 

Sam gaped up at him. Dean kneed his brother's long legs apart and lowered his body again, so that they were flush from balls to sternum with their leaking cocks sandwiched between. He muscled his arms under Sam's back to hold him tight, one hand sliding up to cradle his head. Staring into Sam's wide eyes, Dean let his hips free to do what they wanted... He fucked, not into but against Sam's hot little body and against his hard dick, their panting breaths mingling. "Wrap your legs around me, Sammy! God that feels... so fucking good!" Dean moaned, already gone from rutting.

* * *

Sam gritted his teeth when Dean's hand came down on his butt again and again. He felt the stings more intensely as his cheeks turned red and hot, but, biting down on his lip, he managed not to let out the whimpers that formed in his throat. Not sure if the suppressed sounds were in response to the pain or the stimulation he got from being made to fuck Dean's thighs, Sam stuck his ass out after every slap so his thrusts would be longer.

And then suddenly, it was over. Sam's butt was out high in the air and he was holding his breath for the next spank, which never came. Instead, Dean used a single finger to caress his burning cheeks. It brought a moan to Sam's lips. According to Dean's description, Sam's ass looked like it felt, bright red and sore. The gentle slide of Dean's finger across it made his dick twitch, and Sam was just about to beg for Dean to slip his finger _inside_ again, when his brother rolled him over on his back.

A surprised yelp escaped from Sam when Dean spread his legs wide and wiggled between them, grinding their groins together, then lowering himself on Sam. The weight of Dean's body and the pressure on Sam's groin made his sore butt chafe against the bedspread, and he moaned. Somehow, he perceived the pain not so much as painful per se, but as an additional turn-on. He moaned again, louder. Dean wanted him to scream; Sam would give his brother what he'd asked for.

Pushing back against Dean's strong body, Sam felt Dean's moans vibrate through his own. As instructed, he wrapped his legs around Dean's hips, digging the heels of his feet in his brother's butt, urging him closer. As Dean's panting grew increasingly louder, Sam matched the accelerating rhythm. His dick was sore, too, but he felt himself getting close to another release. 

Only a few thrusts later, Sam threw his head back and cried out as the pressure in his balls reached the critical point. "Deeeaannnnn!!!" he screeched as his dick started spitting, and then it was sliding along Dean's still quivering organ through the slippery mess.

"Fuuuuuuck... Deannnuhhh..."

Sam's body was shaking and he clutched at Dean with his arms and legs, then he brought his mouth to Dean's clavicle and bit down hard. 

"Want you to..." he gasped, reeling with aftershocks, "let it go, Dean."

* * *

It all became a blur of ecstatic movement. Dean fucked against Sam's body while his brother clung to him with arms and legs, nails scraping him and sharp heels digging into his ass. Panting and sweating, he gave into to sensation again, and marveled how with girls he had always concerned himself with their pleasure first, but with Sam, no matter what he did, Sam was right there with him. Before him, even. The two of them _were_ the two-backed beast, grunting and moaning against each other, cocks sliding together between them.

He was just starting to crest the wave when Sam screamed his name a couple times and came. It hit Dean low in the belly – both the renewed shots of seed and the reality of Sam getting off for him, on him, and begging him to do the same. "Yeah... Sammy..." It seemed to happen in slow motion, every thrusting jerk of his hips took a year, every brush of their balls together went on for a week... the spasms starting in his belly moved like a tectonic shift through the earth to his lower back, making his ass muscles clench so hard, and then it cascaded outwards to the tips of his fingers and toes and cock, he was sweating and cumming and he loved his brother so damned much... "OHMYGODSSSSSAAAMMMMMMEEEEEEE...!"

Dean seemed to just hang there, suspended, while it went on and on. Yeah, his body kept humping, his balls turned themselves inside out, he sweated and quivered, all the while looking down and staring into Sam's eyes, because he wanted him to see... Dean didn't know what. It was too much, finally. He blanked out for a minute, finding himself collapsed fully on Sam's body, still languidly pushing his softening dick through the puddle of their spunk.

Jeez, who got off like that, like they were both 13 and not just Sam? Dean's cheeks flamed. It was embarrassing, something he would never tell about if he was bragging, that he'd cum from... well, not exactly dry-humping because they were naked but it wasn't sex. Okay, it was sexual, yes. He supposed that when it came to Sam, they'd just have to make their own way, and he certainly wasn't going to talk about what they did to anyone. Ever.

Dean rolled off, flopping onto his back. He wished he hadn't left his towel on the floor, because they were both a mess and he didn't think his legs were going to work any time soon. The room couldn't have been moving, but it felt like it. The ceiling seemed to be going around in slow rotations. He suppressed a giggle. Brain totally offline, Dean just lay there.

Eventually, he wiggled a bit and jostled Sam's shoulder. "Still alive, buddy?" Hypothetical question of course. He didn't know what else to say, and he wasn't about to hold his brother's hand. Well, not unless Sam needed comfort, then that was different, but Sam had got off as many times and as spectacularly has Dean had, including the near-loss of consciousness and screaming, and all that fucking jizz. Maybe it was something about Sam's diet, he didn't know.

* * *

"Alive? Not sure," Sam groaned, only able to breathe again once Dean had rolled off him. What had just happened, he wondered. It had started out with Sam giving Dean the first blow job in his life, and Dean had stroked him off. Then, later in the shower, Dean had fingered Sam's hole and brought him to a new, previously unknown, height of pleasure, and Sam had reciprocated the favor by letting his brother rut against his belly until he came. 

And after that... They'd rubbed each other off, but before that... Sam wasn't sure he wanted to think too closely about the... spanking. Had he really been turned on by it? Or had it been from the friction on his dick when it was trapped between Dean's thighs? He was sure that he didn't like how sore and hot his buttocks felt in this moment, but anything before... And then his dick was even sorer than his butt... It had been really weird, that was all he could get his mind to agree on right now.

"Dean," Sam groaned again. "'m afraid I'm done, cumming I mean." He yawned. "I think I want that half beer now that you promised me."

* * *

All Dean could do was 'mm-hm' in answer. It took too much energy to move or even speak. Sam asking for the promised half a beer jolted him back into the present. "You're on your own... I can't move," he groaned. 

Never-the-less, it was cool in the house so he had to set his feet on the floor long enough to get under the covers. While he was at it, Dean grabbed his previously-discarded towel and cursorily wiped the sticky mess off his front. He'd just have to trust Sam not to drink the entire beer. What had he been thinking? A kid that age...? Once he was lying down again, though, sleep chased him into darkness immediately.

* * *

Sam snorted, "Old man, huh?" but the look he gave his brother was fond. In contrast to Dean, Sam felt invigorated. He hopped out of bed and gave his belly a cursory wash before repairing to the kitchen. 

Without Dean ribbing him, Sam found that he didn't really want the beer. Nothing would make him admit it, but his older brother was probably right telling Sam that he'd better drink milk for the calcium. _Or the proteins_ , Sam grinned to himself. Hadn't Dean just suggested Sam should produce more 'stuff'?

He poured himself a glass of milk, then frowned at the dirty dishes in the sink. Knowing how much he'd hate being greeted by the sight in the morning, he decided he might as well take care of the mess now. It took him only a few minutes to clear the sink and stow the clean dishes and frying pan where they belonged.

His homework was next on the list, but when Sam took out his books, he couldn't really concentrate on them. Instead, he chewed his pencil absent-mindedly while thinking about how he and Dean had spent the past couple of hours. It had been weird but he couldn't deny that it had also been hot. Sam couldn't decide whether he'd liked Dean's taste in his mouth more or Dean's finger rooting for that spot deep inside him. 

Returning from his dreams for a minute, Sam realized that he was half hard again. Furthermore, he was sucking and licking on his pencil in a way that Dean would immediately comment on as being pornographic. Suddenly, he had an idea: wouldn't it be fun to bring off his brother in his sleep...?

Sam padded back to the bedroom where Dean's head was deeply buried in the pillows. He slid under the blanket and curled up against his brother's backside, then very carefully, as to not wake him up, he snaked a hand around Dean's hip. Dean's dick was soft and moist at the tip when Sam gently took the glans between his thumb and index finger and gave it a featherlight stroke.

* * *

Dean was too out of it to flip Sam off for the 'old man' comment he heard as if from a long distance as he crashed. Sleep was dreamless, for which he was always grateful, and deep. 

The next time anything resembling consciousness faded in, Dean became aware that someone or something was playing with his half-hard dick... and there was an erect member pressed against his ass. Adrenalin shot through his veins, and sweat formed all over him. No! Hell, no!! He hadn't agreed to that! Never mind that the reaction made no sense, it was instinct. He jerked into full awareness, on alert, flinching away, starting to shift his limbs into a defensive position. 

A second later, he caught Sam's distinct scent. Oh. That was Sam's long, slender arm around him, his hand playing with Dean's junk. This was the bed they were currently sharing, in their dive of a rented house. Dean froze. No way Sam wouldn't question his momentary freak-out, but he knew he couldn't reveal the underlying issue. Best pass it off as being startled or better yet, hunter training. He relaxed and laughed weakly. "Oops. Sorry, Sam. You surprised the hell out of me. See? That's how a hunter sleeps – ready for anything."

* * *

Sam smiled to himself as Dean's dick filled out under his touch. Then, a second later, he suddenly found himself pushed away, facing a totally different Dean. His brother looked terrified, something Sam couldn't have imagined in his weirdest dreams: Dean wasn't scared of anything, natural or unnatural; there was simply nothing Sam's older brother couldn't deal with. What the hell was going on?

Dean's apology sounded lame, embarrassed. Maybe he was embarrassed about having enjoyed sex with Sam, who was not only a boy but also Dean's brother?

Sam blushed. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I shouldn't have... surprised you... like that..."

* * *

"Nah, don't apologize," Dean said quickly. "I should've known it was you." He smiled and blinked. "Who else, right? So... You wanted some more, eh?"

Sam had had an erection – again – before Dean had panicked and jumped away. Obviously he was up for more fooling around, but Dean kind of liked to make him say it. The bed was warm and he was more than happy to stay right where they were. 

* * *

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, blushing. "I'd like that. Um, only if you're, well, _up_ for it, too, that is." He was still a little confused by Dean's reaction and disappointed that he'd woken him up. Furthermore, his brother was soft again.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

* * *

"Yeah, Sammy, fine." What the hell? Sam was still giving him a bitchface. "Just gimme a minute and I'll be 'up' for it. I know that _you_ are – I felt it against my ass," Dean leered. 

Still nothing. Sam was doing his best impression of an especially pissy stone. Fine. Remembering what Sam had started with earlier in the evening, Dean twisted around and wiggled down, spreading his hands out over Sam's hips, grasping firmly, and slurped him into his mouth. Deliberately, he turned wide eyes up and watched Sam's shocked face. His brother's entire body tensed and he made a noise in his throat like an animal caught in a trap. In two seconds, as Dean sucked for all he was worth, Sam went from flagging to raging. 

A sweet, sugary taste hit Dean's tongue with the drops of pre-come and then saltier, lower, where the head was usually covered by foreskin. A different sort of musky pheromones emanated from Sam's pubes and scrotum. The scent lodged itself in Dean's olfactory center for all time as sexiest smell ever. Releasing the silky but iron-hard shaft from between his lips with a messy kiss, Dean asked, all innocence, "Is that better for you now?" His dick had perked right up, too, over Sam's... appreciation.

* * *

Still not sure how to react, Sam stared at his brother, hoping for quick inspiration what to do next. Before he could make up his mind, however, Dean suddenly moved his head toward Sam's lower body – and swallowed his dick deep down his throat! Sam was so surprised that he couldn't even cry out although the unbelievable flash of desire had him fully erect again in less than a second.

Sam gasped and panted, while his blood-bereft brain tried to figure out what the hell was happening. If this was Dean's idea of... retaliating... for having been surprised by Sam's earlier actions, Sam swore to himself that he'd give his school mates the third degree to obtain more clues as to how 'girls' could make a man crazy.

When Dean let go of his dick, Sam's mind was still reeling. His brother had asked a question... It took Sam almost a minute to form a coherent reply, even such a simple one as, "Yes."

Dean looked at him expectantly, and Sam didn't know what he was waiting for. What he did know, however, was that he wanted him to continue. Putting this into words took another minute: "Would you... So good... Please..."

If his brother wanted him to beg, Sam would do it, but the smile on Dean's face suggested that he'd continue after having teased Sam for his impatience.

* * *

"Thought you might like that." Dean opened his mouth a little and licked his lips. Halfway between on his side and on his back, Sam stared at him, mouth opening and closing and finally spitting out a few words.

Here was how to make the brat lose his composure, one lick at a time. "Sure, Sam." Dean lowered his head, nosing into Sam's crotch. The touch of his tongue against the fevered skin at the base led to a few abbreviated jerks of Sam's hips. Pushing his brother against the bedspread, Dean licked all the way around the root. Then he drew back again. "Want more?"

* * *

"Fuck, yeah," Sam stammered. His groin was on fire. He'd had no idea what it would feel like to have his dick licked. If this was what he'd done to Dean earlier, he wasn't surprised any longer that and how spectacularly his brother had lost it.

"Please, Dean! Please! More!"

* * *

"Uh, uh, uh... Language!" Dean tried to sound severe but couldn't keep the edge of a laugh out of his voice. As if he didn't string profanity like pearls when Sam worked on him! The kid's lanky body was so tense, abs tight and the leg muscles locked, making little rhythmic movements that were unconsciously inviting.

He sniffed first, addicted to the scent, then Dean huffed a gust of hot breath out over Sam's groin. "What's a good punishment? How about..." Not knowing where the idea came from, Dean stuck out his tongue again, and used the pointed tip to circle the borders of Sam's left testicle, then the right. Now that he was up close, Dean was sure that Sam had not only grown in height in the last few months, but here, too. Could be his balls were swollen from having cum three times in short order, Dean supposed. Though he circumvented it for the moment, Sam's erect length was definitely more, the crown rounder and fatter. 

As a tease, Dean applied the flat of his tongue once to Sam's dick, licking from base to slit. Wet again. So sweet. Back to business – he carefully took his little brother's sac into his mouth, sucking very gently and swirling his tongue everywhere. It was just skin, with the expected wrinkles and of course the center seam, but it was still virtually hairless, and he liked it that way. If he could have, Dean would've grinned as the flavor changed, an acrid tang washing his taste buds as Sam began to sweat.

* * *

Sam would have thrown 'bastard' out at Dean – and likely have gotten himself neglected as punishment – but his brother's tongue was doing something to Sam's testicles that made the speech centers in his brain short circuit.

"Nuuhh... Dean... Unnnhh..." was all he could utter as the hot tongue laved his balls, then ran a strip up to the tip of his prick. Dean was going to kill him at this rate! And yet, Sam wouldn't have it any different. His dick was sore and he couldn't have borne a stroking hand right now.

"Mmnnahh! There! Oh, fuu..." Sam managed to shut up, but it was an effort he might not be able to repeat. "Oh yeah, Dean... So good..."

* * *

Heh. Sam couldn't even speak a coherent word, so Dean must be doing something right. "Good, Sammy," he muttered. Pushing Sam onto his back, Dean leaned over and lapped all over Sam's dick: long licks up the midline, short ones to curl around the throbbing thickness of it, outlining the tracery of veins, and a swirl around the head. Remembering how good it felt when done to him, he played his tongue tip around the tiny slit, and then licked down into it. 

* * *

"Unnhhh... Naahhh..." Sam thrashed his head as Dean continued to lick him. His nerve endings screaming, he bucked up and wailed when his brother's tongue played with his slit. Never before had he felt anything like this!

"Dean, please don't stop! Don't stop! Don't... Nuuugghhhh...!"

* * *

Dean paused long enough to press out, "I won't," and went back to licking. Now that he saw how crazy it made Sam, Dean trailed his tongue about, sometimes soft, sometime letting it rasp along smooth surfaces. Meanwhile, Sam was writhing and trembling and basically coming apart. Whenever he judged it was too much, Dean took the tight balls back into his mouth to ease them lower. Sam bucked against Dean's face; he was going to lose it soon regardless. 

With one hand, Dean reached up to grasp Sam's dick in his fist, close to the head, which was mostly exposed already but he peeled the foreskin down as far as it would go. Without warning, he released the twin glands from his mouth and took Sam's cockhead in, instead. Looking up again, he slurped and sucked and kneaded it with his lips. Only going as far as the ridge, Dean whipped his tongue around the overhanging edge of it. Sam nearly flew off the bed, and he let out a yowl to raise the roof. 

He'd been doing his best to ignore it, but the wet spot on the bed under Dean's groin wasn't going away, and was spreading every time he pumped his hips, dribbling with the movements. He _wanted_ , so damned bad, worse than he'd ever wanted anyone, even his first time when he was so desperate to prove there was nothing wrong with him, and then other times... Trying new things always did it for him, and Dean just... God...! Careful of his teeth, he reared back. "Wanna fuck my face, Sammy?" 

Slack-jawed and staring, stupid in his near-coma of sexual implosion, Sam just grunted, "Huh??" Sure it couldn't hurt to talk about it even if Sam didn't like the idea, Dean barreled on. "I'll lie on my back. With my mouth open. And you can... y'know, straddle me. And fuck my face. Ride it. However you wanna say it." He grinned. "I'll play with your ass."

* * *

Sam's brain was locked in a continuing short-circuit. His brother's tongue was driving him crazy. And then, every time Sam thought he was finally _there_ , Dean eased up, which made his need even more urgent – if that was possible at all.

Writhing and bucking, moaning loudly, Sam almost missed it when Dean talked to him. He registered the words, but not their meaning. Dean was grinning like a loon when he explained what he had in mind, but Sam was so far out of his own mind that he still couldn't grasp it – except that it sounded _really_ hot and dirty.

"Wh-what?"

* * *

"C'mon, Sammy, you gonna make me say it again?" Dean blamed it on the haze of lust surrounding them, that Sam couldn't grasp his offer. Or maybe Sam didn't want to be on top in that sense. Only one way to find out. 

Dean went down on his brother again, all business. He tucked his lips around his teeth and sucked the straining flesh as far down his throat as he could handle, and swallowed around the tip. A little at a time, he rolled to his side, taking Sam with him, and keeping his suction steady. He'd save more advanced tricks for when he had Sammy where he wanted him. Pushing Sam back just a little, Dean spit out the dick in his mouth out long enough to say, "I'm rolling on my back now, and you're following, got it? Get on your knees, and then you ride me. If you don't like that idea, tell me what you want."

If Sam stopped him, Dean would do anything – well, almost anything – he wanted. But if not, he was more than eager for Sam coming apart, to flail and fuck his mouth.

* * *

Dean returned to sucking hard on Sam's dick, and Sam howled with the sensation. When Dean announced that he'd roll on his back and that Sam should ride him, Sam still wasn't sure what exactly his brother was suggesting. All he knew was that he wanted that mouth back on his prick...

Wait a minute. Back a step. Hadn't Dean just offered that Sam should 'ride' him? Wasn't that just what he'd refused only a little while ago when Sam had begged to be fucked? Sam's brain felt scrambled. None of this made any sense to him. He repeated Dean's words in his mind. _I'm rolling on my back now, and you're following, got it? Get on your knees, and then you ride me._

Suddenly, Sam's eyes widened. Dean on his back. Sam on his knees, riding him. Of course! Dean had refused to fuck Sam because he considered Sam too young for this. Dean, on the other hand, was older – old enough to offer his body in the way Sam wasn't ready for yet.

A flash of fire surged down to Sam's groin as he imagined how his brother's hole would feel around him. If the heat of Dean's mouth was any indication, this would be even hotter and tighter... 

Sam moaned. "Oh yes, Dean. I want that! Wanna be in you so much!"

* * *

"Good, now get up..." Dean flopped onto his back in the middle of the bed and pulled Sam along by the hips. There was some resistance and Dean saw no small amount of confusion in those hazel eyes, but Sam didn't say no. It took some doing with those long, lanky limbs, but soon Dean had manhandled Sam into position. One of the knobby knees was planted to each side of Dean's head, shins tucked under his shoulders, balls just above his chin and that dark shaft curving up over the midline of his face. Always leaking, a string of clear drool slung out and slapped Dean across one cheek, running toward his ear. 

"Lean forward, Sammy," Dean husked out. He wrapped his fist around his brother's cock and guided the head to his lips, giving it several fast, firm licks. Sam nearly fell, catching himself on his hands. "Now fuck me...!" Dean ordered, opening his mouth wide, and his throat. Sure, it sounded like something it wasn't exactly. But oral was still sex, and he wanted Sam to know what it felt like, letting go into wet heat. 

* * *

Sam's brain still wasn't tracking, but he followed Dean's commands and his body. To his surprise, he found himself straddling his brother's chest, nowhere near Dean's ass, but when Dean palmed his dick and licked along the head, he was immediately drawn into the spiral of need and desire again.

"Nuuhh, Dean!" Sam moaned. When Dean ordered him to fuck him, Sam wasn't sure at first how to do it, but Dean, impatient, opened his mouth. Oh, _that!_ It felt strange to bend his dick down so he could slide the tip between his brother's lips, but Dean reacted immediately and sucked him down as deeply as he could.

Every idea of Dean's ass fled from Sam's mind as he thrust into the hot cavern of his brother's mouth. And then, Dean's other suggestion struck him like lightning: _"I'll play with your ass."_

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Please, Dean, please touch me!"

* * *

Once Sam finally caught on, he wiggled into position and went to town. The fucking, thrusting movements came naturally. And why wouldn't they? There were instincts a-plenty, already awakened and stoked by Sam's hormones and imagination and their playtimes. 

It took more concentration than Dean had anticipated not to choke, just to breathe, when he let Sam loose to grind down his throat. Once he found his rhythm, Sam moaned and thrust his hips sharply then stuck his little ass up for a long slide before doing it over and over and over again. Unable to control his drooling, Dean swallowed it, along with blurts of pre-come from Sam. How he had anything left... But it was the same with Dean, whose neglected dick was making a happy little puddle on his belly. 

Dean's hands were still clamped around Sam's hip bones, holding on for dear life and to some degree, preventing himself asphyxiation, so when Sam begged to be touched, Dean was momentarily confused. Touched? When both hands and his mouth were already all over him? But then, this was Sam, and it seemed like nothing got Sam hotter than having his forbidden entrance played with. With one hand, Dean reached further back, past the rolling cheeks of Sam's butt and down, between, and at last to that tiny clenched hole. When he stroked the rim, Sam stilled and wailed for a second, and then humped even faster. 

He couldn't speak with a dick in his mouth, but Dean could hum his approval. And his encouragement. They didn't have lube, but he needed something – Dean wasn't about to breach his brother dry. Improvising, Dean shoved two fingers into his own mouth alongside Sam, gathered up as much of the spit-and-pre-come mix as he could on two fingers, and slathered it on Sam's hole. As he'd done before, Dean eased his index finger past the rim and in knuckle-deep. 

Inside was tight and slick and milking his digit, so distracting Dean only remembered to search for the sweet spot after Sam made pitiful begging noises, something please, something about needing... Rooting around with his finger, Dean struggled for breath, finally got some through his nose, and ran the pad of his finger lightly over the hidden bump. No fast-and-dirty getting off this time. Sam was making Dean work and so Dean was going to return the favor in teasing and denial till Sam's body couldn't take it and spewed. Two minutes or two hours, they'd be the longest – and best – of Sam's life. He tapped once, the whorls of his fingertip brushing the gland. 

* * *

"Nhh... Umm... Unnh..." Sam emitted a whimper with every thrust. Fucking his brother's mouth felt incredible. He'd never thought that something like this was possible. At some point, he raised his ass to adjust his body to a more comfortable angle, and then...

Dean's hands were on Sam's hips, guiding him – and frustrating him a little by slowing him down. Eventually, Dean figured out where Sam wanted to be touched. Sam was sure he'd be able to let go in his brother's incredible mouth, but his prick was kind of wrung out from cumming three times already. When Dean's strong hand trailed a finger down Sam's crack, he wailed and picked up speed. Yes, that was what he needed!

Sam whined with disappointment when the finger stopped, but a second later, his hips bucked with ecstasy as Dean slipped inside him. The mild burn stoked his need, and then his brother rooted around and found _the_ spot. Sam stiffened at the touch and continued to fuck Dean's mouth, turning frantic with need now. 

The hand on Sam's hip slowed him down and if Sam hadn't clenched his eyes shut, he was sure he'd see the grin on his brother's face. It was so like Dean to tease him when he needed to get off so badly! Sam wasn't ashamed to beg for his release, but he was so far gone that he could barely get the words out.

"Deee... Pp-ppleaaase– oh god, there, THERE! Oh yes! Dean! Right there! Now! More! Please, oh Deeeaannn..."

* * *

Sam was a sight, or, since Dean couldn't see much but his brother's long, smooth torso, he was one hell of a _feeling_. Once he got it, Sam banged Dean's face for all he was worth. With a finger inside him, he was keening and rocking, his hole squeezing so tight. Dean gave him exactly what he wanted, but kept his touch light against the increasingly lumpy gland. 

More and more sweet juice unspooled in his mouth. Sam's dick grew impossibly harder, the sides of the shaft fluttering with raised veins. Oh yeah, he'd keep Sam on the edge as long as he could, because attending to his little brother's needs delayed his own pleasure, which would make it better, later. But Dean also knew there was a fine line, especially at times like this after two or three times, where another orgasm could become unreachable. Dean had cum dry a couple times in his life, and he didn't care for that sensation either. So, he would take care that Sam did cream for him again... just... not until he wrung every bit of pleasure from him first. 

Gasping for breath, Dean lifted Sam a bit and wrenched his head back. Sweat prickled along his temples. "So..." he panted, "you wanna... cum now, baby? Fill me up... with your cream?" Before Sam could answer, if he was even capable of it, Dean slurped him in again and sucked till his cheeks hollowed. 

* * *

"Uuuuuhhhh.....!!!"

All his senses where overwhelmed by the wildfire burning through his body. Sam shrieked and wailed. Every time Dean touched that spot inside him, he bucked up and thrust deeper into his brother's mouth. He was so close, so close! If only he could reach that little bit further...

Dean did something with his mouth – slipped his tongue under Sam's foreskin and licked over the bundle of nerves there, and that was it. Sam screamed when his body stiffened while he shot and shot and shot. Then, he was shaking and squirming with oversensitivity, and Dean slid his finger out of his hole, steadying Sam's hips with both hands while continuing to lick and suck him dry.

"Deeeaannn!!!"

His brother finally eased up on the sucking and just held Sam in his mouth. Unbelievably, the soft and gentle warmth he felt now made his balls surge again, painfully, as they heaved another load. Sam wailed, and then he felt Dean lay him down on the bed next to him.

"Whoa, that was... awesome," Sam panted. "J's gimme a sec... then it's your turn..."

* * *

What he was doing wasn't artful or particularly skilled, but it didn't matter – Sam did as he was supposed to – thrust and work himself into his next orgasm and Dean couldn't be happier. Like watching someone struggle to hold back tears till one's empathic reflex had him doing the same, experiencing Sammy's wailing, shaking release had Dean close, so close. His dick pulsed and flexed against his belly; he curled from the waist just to get a little friction. Sam flooded his mouth with seed so viscous Dean wondered if it hurt him, screamed his name, and rode it out, though he was ready to collapse seconds later. And no wonder! Loathe to let him go, Dean licked all over the head and even under the thin cuff of skin that was now easing its way down, and was rewarded by another weak spurt. 

Pulling his finger from Sam's hole, Dean helped him lie down gently. He was shivering and breathless and gorgeous, all sweaty and fucked-out. Well, sucked out, as it were. Tonight had been so different from their previous experiences, where Sam had been shy about his body at first and looking for 'help' from his big brother. Now here he was, demanding, full of dirty suggestions, near-insatiable.

It didn't take long before Sam recovered enough to remember Dean had yet to cum. As it was, Dean was already jacking himself slowly. His balls were going to kill him for this, but they'd have been just as punishing if he left them swimming in his next load. 

"You don't have to, Sam." His brother was utterly out of it, as far as Dean could tell. "I probably wore you out," he winked. The room reeked of cum and sweat and he was about to add of it. Turning onto his side, Dean faced Sam across the threadbare bedspread. Years of practice helped him stroke just so, to make it good.

* * *

"Dean, lemme..." Sam gasped. "Please, I wanna..." He raised his hand to reach for his brother, but it fell down on the bed, trembling. "Sorry, man..."

At least he managed to keep his eyes open. They turned wide when he watched Dean's hand, working himself slowly. "That's... so hot," Sam exclaimed. "C'n you cum again? C'n I taste you?"

* * *

Sam couldn't move more than a few inches; Dean could see his body tremble in effort, then slump. Taste him? Sam's pink tongue on him, or scooping up his jizz? Dean's stomach tightened with a bolt of heat. "Yeah, I can... Watching you get off, got me so fucking horny. Lick my cream, Sammy. Lick anything you want."

The last was more a moan than a word. Now that he had only his own need to worry about, Dean was going to blow any second. He bent the knee of the leg resting on top of the other, and fucked into the spit-slicked vise of his fist. "Uhh, uhh..." God, so close! The alternating arch and push of his back and hips, the clench of his ass, and the sweet tingle of his balls readying to spit their load stretched out, then snapped back like a rubber band. There! "Now! Fuuuuuck! Please Sam, touch me while I cum!" Dean couldn't help speeding his strokes, making them long. He held his breath till the first shot splashed all over his belly.

* * *

Sam's brain returned from standby-mode when Dean's moans became more urgent. Oh yes, he wanted to lick and touch his brother – not only for himself, but was there anything hotter than spurring Dean on?

He rolled over on his side and close to Dean's chest. Lapping at a nipple, he was surprised at the stiffness of the nub. After pulling back for a second and blowing on the wet tip, he leaned in again and suckled it, then moved his hand on Dean's other nipple and gave it a hard pinch.

Dean bucked, and Sam smiled. Letting go, he whispered, "Cum for me, Dean!" then resumed his sucking and pinching. Dean was shuddering under Sam and made a strange sound deep in his throat as the first splash erupted from his reddened slit. 

Sam rewarded him with a bite on his nipple. He'd seen his brother ecstatic before, but Dean hadn't been so desperate the other times they'd played with each other.

"That's it, Dean, let it go..."

* * *

Somewhere in the middle of Dean jerking himself into oblivion, Sam had moved close to lap at Dean's nipple, faintly raspy tongue hitting the erect point in rapid little beats. The warmth changed to cold when he blew on it, and hot when he sucked it in between his lips. Then it became a two-fold assault as Sam pinched the other. Sparks flew from Dean's chest to his nuts. He was cumming, erupting, strands and more strands of white shooting from his cock while his balls contracted and emptied one spurt at a time and that other thing inside him adding to the fluid mix till it felt like he'd never be done. Sam's licking and biting seemed to pull more, and shots of it got on him too, slicking his belly. 

"Uuuunnngh, oh god," Dean whined. "Sammmmeeeee..." Eyes rolling back, he collapsed onto his back, twitching all over, still leaking. He was too gone to care. 

* * *

When Dean started to twitch, Sam eased up on his nipples. He could only stare with awe and fascination as his brother's dick continued to pump out juices while Dean was writhing and spasming on the bed.

As soon as the spurts grew weaker, he moved his head lower toward Dean's belly and lapped at the rich puddle of jizz. Dean jerked, hard, before collapsing on the bed again, totally out of it. Sam had never seen anything like this before. He gave the mess on his brother's belly another lick and pulled back when Dean flinched again.

A little worried now, Sam asked, "Dean, are you okay? Should I stop?"

* * *

"Nnnnnnggh..." Words? Mouth? What? Dean was a puddle of exhaustion, endorphins, sprawled limbs, and cum. Only, he got the sense that Sam was about to pull away and he didn't want that. "N-no. Stay. 'Less you don' wanna. 'M'okay." 

Lying there, just breathing, Dean imprinted the scent of them, mingled, the sensation of cooling sweat on his skin and Sam's tongue, running through his body's offering, warm and sticky around his navel. Yes, he'd been blown before, and some chicks even swallowed, but it wasn't like this, with someone who had been around most of his life and was privy to almost everything about him and also who had a dick of his own, so he _knew_ more than any woman what he was giving. Especially now that Dean had introduced him to being sucked dry, too. 

It kind of tickled, but was totally sexy, seeing and feeling Sam lick him clean. Dean managed to move his heavy hand to Sam's shoulder and squeeze. Playing his fingers into the longish brown strands, Dean carded through Sam's hair, like he hadn't since they were a lot younger and he'd had to nurse Sam through a fever and flu while their dad was gone for several days. "So good, Sam. I loved that." 

* * *

Relieved and happy that Dean wanted him to continue, Sam gently licked his brother clean. He knew that Dean was oversensitive, so he took extra care to not tickle him. "I loved it, too," he said and smiled. "But you already know that, I guess."

When he'd finished his task, Sam stretched out next to Dean first, then he curled up against him. "I don't think I can go another round," he yawned. "Dean, can I... Is it okay if I sleep with you? I mean we share the bed, but can I sleep in your arms or you in mine?" He held his breath.

* * *

"Yeah, sure... Yeah." Sparks of something that had nothing to do with physical pleasure chased themselves around Dean's skin. His nipples tingled from it, and it dived like silky electricity into his gut. It didn't hurt; it was good. For once, he felt good all over. Like, nothing was hunting him. No one was judging him. No one wanted his ass. He felt safe. Loved.

Jeez. 'Sleep in his arms'? Not for the first time that night, Dean wondered where his kid brother had learned to talk like that. He himself would never have asked for something so... so intimate, no matter how he craved it, and he did. He'd never come close before. "I'd like that," he added. "C'mere." Reaching out, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's slender form, holding on loosely while he rooted around for a comfortable position. They fit together, perfectly. Dean blinked, and kissed Sam's hair. He couldn't do it again either, no way, but if he could have, it would have been something beyond the fire of teenage hormones. 

"I... I guess we're lovers now. Or something." Dean knew what he felt; he just couldn't say it. "Yah love me, Sammy?" 

* * *

"'Course I love you!" Sam frowned. How could Dean doubt that Sam loved him? Then again, they'd never had this 'thing' before. "You're my brother," he tried to explain, "and you're making me feel good. Like, I've never felt so awesome before. That's... I mean, I've always loved you, and maybe I love you even more now..."

He snuggled against Dean's chest, inhaling his brother's scent. "Feels so right," Sam sighed happily. 

* * *

"God, yeah," Dean agreed. "Love you, too." He held his brother closer, and pulled a blanket over them. Sam's long legs entwined with his bowed ones, the hair prickly then softening with shared body heat.

'Too girly?' he wondered to himself, with a twinge of self-reproach. They'd never been given or allowed anything like this, even a resemblance to a normal family, and it was ungainly, like walking in someone else's body. What wasn't, was how much he loved Sam, and how good they felt together. Right. Sam had that _right._

Some other day he'd worry about the nuances of it, whether them being brothers or the whole, 'making me feel good' bit, the sex, cancelled out what he held deep in his chest, walled far away from their fucked-up hunters' lives. Whichever, he wanted Sam with him always, pain-in-the-ass little brother or not. "That's awesome," he murmured. 

* * *

"Uh-huh," Sam nodded against Dean's chest. "Mmh..." he smiled and gave the soft skin a gentle lick. "Ah, Dean," he yawned, rooted around for the most comfortable position, which he found pressed as closely to his brother as he could possibly be. "Wanna stay here, with you, like forever..."

* * *

"Oh yeah? That might get sticky," Dean chuckled. He was so tired his eyelids were drooping, words slurring. So warm, with Sam resting against him. "We'd have to get up to eat... and wash... and go to the bathr–" 

The night, with a patch of moonlight illuminating the nursery, closed in over him and pulled him under.

Sometime during the night, Dean was sure he heard the Impala's engine, but he drifted off again as he tried to listen for it. 

* * *

"Good," Sam said, yawning again. "I wanna stick to you forever..." Sleep overtook him before he could finish the sentence.

* * *

John made sure that the front door was locked behind him and renewed the salt line. He went to the kitchen, noticing that it was clean as always, and went straight to the top shelf of the cupboard where he kept his supplies. It was only after he'd downed a good measure that he looked in on his boys. The sight made him cringe.

Sam and Dean were sleeping too close to each other. It wasn't their fault, what with the small bed they had no choice, and John promised himself that from now on, he'd pick places with two beds, if not two rooms, for the boys. If they could afford it...

John sighed. The Impala had broken down before he'd even reached his destination. He'd managed a temporary fix, but it wouldn't last long. He needed spare parts, and for that, they needed money, lots of it, quickly, and there weren't many options to obtain it.

Maybe he'd imagined the smell of semen in the boys' room, but John already knew that his youngest had reached puberty. He hated himself for even thinking it, but he couldn't afford to shelter Sam much longer.

John took the bottle of Jack to his bedroom. It was empty by the time he fell asleep, but the feelings of guilt over what he'd done to Dean and what he was about to do to Sam would haunt him for the rest of his life.

* * *

Dean lurched awake at the sound of the front door opening and booted feet walking through. He didn't move, listening as well as he could, trying to control his fear-accelerated breathing. The movements were familiar, and he relaxed. There was the susurration of more salt being poured, and the clink of bottles. 

So, their dad was back early. Being his destination was a ten-hour drive, something must have happened to turn him back without ever getting close. In situations like that, for John was sure to be pissed off, Dean found it easier to stay out of his way, preferably gone. He feigned sleep as naturally as he breathed, had been doing so since he wasn't even old enough to know such an action had a name. John looked in on them for a long moment, sniffed, sighed, took a swig of the amber-liquid-of-the-day, and left, presumably for his own room. 

If he could have, Dean would have locked their door, but for what? There was no lock anyway and it wouldn't have kept Dad out, and only raised his suspicions. Suspicions of what, well. Sam knew without being told not to give anything away, and the kid already had deadpan down to an artform. Dean would just have to be smarter and a better actor than their dad to never let on what he and Sam did while he was away. John would probably kill or castrate them. That, Dean thought bitterly, would put an end to what Dad was always digging on him about as slutty behavior, but he could still turn tricks even so, couldn't he? He'd still have a mouth and a hole. Or no, what he would be more likely to do was find a way to separate them. Knowing the other was out there somewhere, presumably alive and intact but unable to find him, would be worse.

Unclenching his fists, Dean lay still a few more minutes, knowing he'd get no more sleep. Beside him, Sammy was oblivious, arm thrown over his head and breathing deep and even. Dean slid out of bed and into some hastily grabbed clothes. Thank god John hadn't discovered they were both naked. They'd have to be more careful.


End file.
